“Hey! Hey you!” I shout for the 5th time today. “You can’t keep jumping in my forge, it dampens the flames. You will also burn yourself.” My voice, full of anger, falls on deaf ears.

“These poxy players and their glitches. How in the draugr am I suppose to get this order done if I can’t even heat up my blade.” My anger keeps boiling as I pick up a previously completed blade. I point it toward the player in a threatening manner. “If you don’t get out of my forge right now. I will call the guards and they can remove you. They will send you to the depths of the prison if you don’t move.” The threat still falling on death ears. Suddenly the player moves, sprinting off.

“Finally, I can work in peace.” I sigh in relief. I bend down and grab a good chunk of mithril. “This should be perfect, it’s going to need to be much hotter though.” As I return to the upright position, my face drops.

The player has returned. Here we go again.

“Guards!”